


A Fire I Can't Put Out

by StBridget



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 05:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16056254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: With Steve's penchant for explosions, it's only to be expected that would carry over to the kitchen.





	A Fire I Can't Put Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hawaii Five-0 is property of CBS and its creators.
> 
> Cross-posted from FF
> 
> Based on the prompt "I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don't trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen." 
> 
> Just a little McDanno domestic fluff.

Danny came home to a house filled with smoke and a blaring smoke alarm. His first thought was _Oh, my God, what did Steve blow up this time?_ —and just what did it say about his life that he assumed a.) it was an explosion, b.) Steve was responsible, and c.) it was _again_ —as if things exploding was a normal occurrence in their lives. To be fair to Steve, maybe it wasn't _normal_ , but he definitely seemed to make more than his fair share of things go boom.

"Steven, what did you _do_?" Danny shouted between coughs. He frantically waved his hand in front of his face, trying to clear the smoke so he could breathe again.

Steve came out of the kitchen, wearing one of Danny's aprons (the one that said "Kiss Me, I'm Italian", complete with Italian flag and an outline of Italy) and holding a wooden spoon in one hand. Most people's hearts would bubble over with happiness at coming home to a scene of such domesticity. Frankly, it scared Danny to death. The havoc Steve could wreak in the kitchen made the mind boggle.

"Oh, Danny, you're home," Steve said, perfectly calmly, as though there weren't clouds of smoke billowing out behind him. "I wasn't expecting you home so early."

"You avoided the question," Danny said. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"Oh, I just burned dinner a little bit. It's nothing," Steve replied.

"This does not look like 'nothing'," Danny said. "'Nothing' does not usually involve this much smoke. In fact, 'nothing' usually doesn't involve _any_ smoke." He tried to move past Steve into the kitchen, but the SEAL blocked his way.

"It's fine, really, Danny," Steve insisted.

"I'll be the judge of that." Danny shoved at Steve until the other man reluctantly stepped away.

The smoke was even denser in the kitchen, practically choking Danny. He looked around for the source of the chaos. The smoke seemed to be coming from the oven. Danny strode over to it.

"Danny, don't. . ." Steve started, but the detective ignored him and yanked open the door. Flames leaped from what appeared to have formerly been a perfectly good Pyrex baking dish.

"Steven, you set the oven on fire!" Danny yelled.

"It would have been fine if you hadn't opened the door," Steve said. "The flames would have suffocated and gone out on their own."

Danny grabbed a fire extinguisher and aimed it at the remains of the pan. Soon, the flames were out, leaving the oven a soggy mess. "Just what were you trying to do, anyway?"

"I was trying to make you your Nonna's lasagna," Steve said, meekly. "You've had a rough week. I know the case is getting to you, and Rachel's been giving you grief about the kids, and you nearly got shot, and that witness took a swing at you the other day, so I thought I'd do something nice."

Danny put an arm around Steve and drew him in for a hug. He kissed Steve's forehead. "Ah, babe, that's sweet, but you shouldn't have."

"I wanted to," Steve said.

"No, I really mean you shouldn't have," Danny said, but he smiled to let Steve know he was joking—mostly. "Now, why don't you call for takeout while I clean up."

"I was hoping for something nicer than pizza and beer," Steve said.

"That decent Italian restaurant—you know, the one I don't hate—delivers. Why don't you give them a call?"

"Okay," Steve agreed. "Just let me help you clean up."

"That's okay, I can do it," Danny said.

"No, please, it's the least I can do," Steve insisted, grabbing a potholder. He started to reach for the pan in the oven, but realized the potholder was thoroughly charred (Danny really didn't want to know how).

Danny put his hands firmly on Steve's hips and walked him backwards out of the kitchen. The blond paused in the doorway and gave Steve a sweet, lingering kiss, then turned him around and pushed him out with a swat to the ass. "Babe, I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don't trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen."

Steve went.

**Author's Note:**

> The show has cast aspersions on both Steve and Danny's cooking ability, but with the latest talk of Danny opening Steve's and cooking for the group, I decided to cast Steve as the hopeless cook.


End file.
